


Solitude with Good Company

by TwoWeevils



Category: Venetia - Georgette Heyer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 05:07:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13116675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoWeevils/pseuds/TwoWeevils





	Solitude with Good Company

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imaginarycircus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginarycircus/gifts).



Cavendish Square  
10th December, 1818

My dear brother, 

I received yours of the 4th December by the early post this morning and trust this finds you well-settled at Undershaw. I was not privy to the contents of Mrs. Scorrier’s letter to you in France, but please accept my assurance that I am not upon the verge of an “ill-judged” marriage to a “confirmed libertine.” Indeed, by now you will have called on Damerel and learned that my intended is merely a rake, his character quite unreformed. In all seriousness, Conway, you may trust my good sense as much in this matter as you have with the management of your estates during your absence from home. If you distrust my judgment, you may rely on my Uncle Hendred’s. He has sanctioned the betrothal and has come to see Damerel’s worth and worthiness of his niece’s hand. 

On that head, please do not tease yourself with the notion that I have _thrown-over_ Edward Yardley for my darling scapegrace. Worthy Edward may be, but I could not have made him happy, nor he I. In any case, he will likely tell you of my misdeeds when he was last in London and give you to understand that he was thoroughly mistaken in my character.

Of course, I will understand if you do not choose to accompany your mother-in-law to Town owing to Charlotte’s delicate situation. Aubrey, my aunt and uncle, and our cousins will ably represent the family. Should you decide to make the journey, do hold to Mrs. Scorrier’s scheme of staying in Limmer’s. At this late date you will never find a house to let in any tonnish quarter and, if I may be frank with you, my dear brother, you and Charlotte may fare better in a set of rooms well distant from Mrs. Scorrier’s.  Have Mytchett write and make the necessary arrangements.

Aubrey may have told you that he and Damerel will leave for London on 18th December. Should it have slipped his mind, you now know the date by which you may give or send anything by him to me in Town. Sir John and Lady Denny will leave Yorkshire on 20th December. If you and Charlotte are able to join us in town, we will have quite emptied the neighbourhood of company over the Christmas season!

Give my best love to Charlotte and my civil regards to Mrs. Scorrier. Remember me to Ribble, Mrs. Gurnard, Nurse, and all of our people. I will send them each a piece of the cake by Lady Denny. 

Your wicked sister,

Venetia

P.S.  Oblige me, Conway, by having Aubrey’s winter flannels conveyed to the Priory if Nurse has not already seen it done. Yrs., V.

 

Cavendish Square  
11 December, 1818

My dear Lady Denny,

I write to you from a very comfortable _chaise longue_ in the home of my Aunt Hendred. On this occasion, since I am so soon to be married, I have been given the rare privilege of claiming the best bedchamber as my own. I am sure my aunt and uncle seek to do me honour upon my coming marriage, as it is quite the largest in the house, but it is at the _front_ of the house and so I do not sleep as well as I ought. Has it struck you, ma'am, how noisy everything is in Town? Not an hour goes by without carriages going past, and I shall say nothing of the town-crier. My aunt has given me a _tisane,_ but I fear that nothing shall help me sleep but to plug my ears with wax!

I know you will be gratified to learn that my journey was as uneventful as I have come to expect when travelling with my Uncle Hendred. We spent an extra day on the road in order to shorten the part of each day that he must spend in the carriage, hoping in this way to stave off the headaches that bring him so low. In an effort, I suspect, to take his mind off his misery, we talked of everything and nothing, and he provided me with a good deal of advice, _some_ of which I am sure will prove useful.

You will be interested to learn that my Aunt Hendred has not, after all, disappointed my cousin Theresa by making her wait until next year to make her curtsey to Society. She vows that it will be positively restful to plan a wedding-party for such a _good girl_ as I am, and that in any case, it will take no time at all. My Aunt holds me up so frequently as an example to Theresa and her sisters that I am surprised they do not already wish me at Jericho.

What do you hear of Aubrey? Since I arrived in Town, I have had but one letter from anyone at the Priory, and as you may imagine, my _idiotish_ correspondent mentioned him only in passing. I do not worry precisely about Aubrey, since he is perfectly capable of taking care of himself in most things, but it is just those things which have me in a fret. He may forget to eat, or read until the small hours of the morning, and it is certain that Nurse will try to cosset him, and tidy around him, and order Mrs Imber to make him nourishing soups—or worse yet, bring them from Lanyon!—until I fear Aubrey may prevail upon Lord Damerel to forbid her the house. If you know of anything that will put my mind at ease, please write at once and relieve my mind of the picture of Nurse and Mrs Imber at daggers drawn which, along with the cry of the night-watchman, is all that seems to occupy my mind at present.

You may wonder at my distraction, with my marriage only a fortnight away, but in truth I am _used_ to be _useful._ This surfeit of leisure broken with furious episodes of shopping ill becomes me. My aunt has exquisite taste and it pleases her to help me choose my bride-clothes (and hats, and shoes, and travelling-cloaks, and gowns, and all the other essential items), so I must be happy, but I confess to some disquiet of mind.

I cannot say what I fear precisely, but I do feel a kind of foreboding when I try to think and plan for the time beyond my wedding date. I know what you will think of _that_ , my dear Lady Denny, but let me assure you that I do not suffer from any maidenly qualms at the prospect of married life. Forgive my frankness on this head, but I cannot have you thinking that I could be so gooseish. I am and will remain _aux anges_ at the prospect of wedding my beloved scoundrel.

My anxiety stems from quite another quarter. My Uncle Hendred has managed to bring Damerel’s Aunt Stoborough round his thumb, and where she leads, his spinster Aunts Jane and Eliza follow. My uncle became almost animated as he recounted his triumph, with him demanding Lady Stoborough take steps to prevent her wicked nephew from ruining his innocent niece and Lady Stoborough extolling Damerel’s virtues until Uncle Hendred was thoroughly cowed. (If nothing else, I can now flatter myself that the _contretemps_ associated with Aurelia Steeple’s daughter marrying Rake Damerel has, in the end, given my uncle a great deal of pleasure!)

Damerel’s aunts thus won over, Uncle Hendred and Lady Stoborough are now united in their efforts to retrieve Damerel’s reputation and safeguard mine as a lady of unimpeachable quality. Unfortunately -- and I believe this may be the source of my disquiet -- Damerel’s cousin Alfred appears bent on quite another course of action. He is, you must know, Damerel’s heir and was at one time hopeful of becoming the recipient of his aunts’ not inconsiderable fortunes as well. Now that Damerel is to marry and become a pattern-card of respectability, Alfred’s hopes are all but dashed and he is only left to wish me barren or incapable of bearing any but daughters. He has also, I regret to say, been unstinting with his compliments to my face as he is with his slander behind my back.

Lady Jersey called upon my aunt yesterday morning full of Alfred’s vicious whisperings. I was gratified and somewhat astonished at my aunt daring to give Lady Jersey a mild set-down for repeating Alfred’s poison. I believe she was emboldened by the presence of young Lady Sheringham (whose star is on the rise among the _ton_ ). “Lady Sherry” has become something of a admirer of mine and, although she is the merest slip of a girl, appears to hold a surprising amount of influence among the fashionable set. Lady Jersey remains the queen of Almack’s and is much courted and toad-eaten, but it seems to me that Lady Sheringham is more universally liked than Lady Jersey. Indeed, it would be difficult to dislike such a charming and artless girl. Having her as my champion feels not unlike being protected by an adorable, but sharp-clawed kitten.

Speaking of claws puts me in mind of another circumstance that has _harrowed up my soul._ Mrs. Scorrier is coming to Town. She and my sister-in-law will put up at Limmer’s Hotel, Mrs. S. having no acquaintance in town willing to give her house-room. I feared she might beg accommodation from my aunt, but Charlotte writes that her mama was insulted by my Uncle Hendred’s civil refusal of her offer of hospitality when he was last in the north. You must know, my dear Lady Denny, that this circumstance had less to do with Mrs. Scorrier’s manners than with the _tisane_ Marsten brews to stave off my uncle’s tic. You do not have to tell me what felicity you will derive from meeting Mrs. Scorrier at my wedding breakfast. I will seat her next to Alfred and they shall entertain one another with anecdotes of my hoydenish ways.

How I have run-on, my dear friend. I have kept this letter open for two days in the hope I could get a frank from Damerel, but he has put off his return to Town for another week. Please give my love to Sir John (who will be forced to dispense some sixpences for the length of this tome), to the girls, and even to your wicked Oswald. I agree that it would be too much to ask him to be present at my nuptials, but I do long to see what kind of sensation he might make with some of the younger damsels of my acquaintance.

Thank you again and again for agreeing to make the journey south to attend upon my nuptial celebrations. I know Sir John prefers to stay in the country until after Christmas and I truly appreciate his sacrifice almost as much as do the birds whose lives may be spared for another season.  It will be a joy to me to have you, who have in many ways stood in the place of a mother, with me on that wonderful day.

I remain yours, etc.

Venetia L.

 

 

St. Mark’s Square, Venice  
18th January, 1819

Dearest Aubrey,

Damerel and I arrived in Venice ten days ago and are now settled in great style in a villa off the _Piazza San Marco_. The canals are remarkable both for their resemblance to busy thoroughfares and for their pervasive odour. Our villa actually has what I can only describe as a stable for gondolas beneath the kitchens. Damerel and I have merely to make our way down a set of worn (and slippery!) steps to order our boatman to pole us wherever we wish.

It is so odd to go about in a light pelisse and straw bonnet in the midst of January. We have had nothing but sunshine since we arrived. 

Of little interest to you will be the news that Venice is full to bursting with notables from home. Byron, the Shelleys, _the Steeples_ , and I know not who else is in residence here.  Damerel, to my chagrin, is on friendly terms with even the most disreputable of this set, but I must own they are entertaining when they are not trying to shock me with their warm stories. It is most tiresome, but after all we spend very little time in company. My mother, seems strangely uninterested in my companionship, although she flirts shockingly with Damerel at every opportunity and Sir Lambert is ever at the ready to take Damerel’s place at my side.

There are parties, balls, and masquerades almost every night. While Damerel and I have partaken in our share of these delights, we are most comfortable in one another’s company. Nearly all of the main rooms of our villa boast a balcony and, when the wind is to seaward, we spend many pleasant evenings watching the traffic on the canal, looking beyond to the sea, and naming the stars.

Yes, yes, _stoopid,_ I know you want none of this sentimental stuff, but I am so astonishingly happy that I cannot but go on in this insipid style. I was used to aspire to be nothing more than a sister to you and an aunt to Conway’s children. Now I see how much I would have missed if my dearest Damerel had not retired to the Priory for that fateful autumn. Married life suits me as academic life will suit you.

You must write and tell me all the news from home and your Cambridge plans. I do agree that it is wise for you to hold to your scheme of going up at Michelmas. I know you were eager to begin this month instead, but Mr. Appersett will know better than any of us what will be best for your studies. You may do your possible to kill yourself with study until June, and then we will meet in Athens as promised. Damerel has already begun plotting out a tour that will leave no ancient pebble unturned for your entertainment.

I will not tell you to take care of yourself, I will not remind you to wear your flannels, and I will not adjure you to be civil when you visit Undershaw. Damerel sends his best and asks you to ride over to the Priory, when you are at liberty from Mr. Appersett’s tutelage, to see that all is well. Please do write to us, my abominable little brother. We both miss your curmudgeonly company and the trail of open books you leave behind you.

Your loving—and so very happy!—sister,

Venetia

 


End file.
